Hi!!!! Welcome to my blog!!!! My name is Sid and this is a Achilles/dark content blog. So obviously this an 18+ only blog. I’ll ask that minors block me, and if I see a minor interact with my content I will not hesitate to block you. And since this blog contains dark content I will ask that if you are sensitive to not interact with my content. I do use a google form for requests so I can close requests without closing my ask box. If I receive a request in my ask box I’m just going to delete it. (Let me know if the hyperlink doesn’t work and I’ll send it too you) Oh! And here’s my AO3. Not everything on there is yandere or dark content, but all of my work on here should be on there at some point soon.
Master list link
Taglist link
Here’s the list of fandoms I write for:
Demon Slayer
My Hero Academia
One Punch Man
Full Metal Alchemist (Brotherhood)
Samurai Champloo
Avatar the Last Airbender/Legend of Korra
Also list of blocked tags and content I will/will not write for is below the keep reading or click to read or whatever
Anyway here are some tags you can block if you want, also just because it’s on the blocklist doesn’t mean I’ve posted that content on here yet, it just means I’m willing to write it and it will probably appear on the blog at some point in time.
tw: dubcon/noncon
tw: incest
tw: drug usage
tw: kidnapping
tw: somnophilia
tw: physical abuse
I will write for the items above as well as
modern au
high fantasy au
sugar daddy scenario/au
most kinks (no: scat, feet play)
public sex/exhibitionism/voyeurism/cuckholding
I will not write for:
snuffing
heavy gore or gore in a sexual manner
no scat or feet (feet are just really gross I can’t say why)
suicide/self harm
pedophilia (loli/shota) (which is separate from age regression or lolita fashion)
Imagining trying to get off but your phone keeps blowing up and your vibe dies. But like your fav catches you... And they eat you out till you cry? Had to make up for all the lost orgasms huh?
idk where people got the idea that we’re saying karl heisenberg is bi purely out of sexual objectification and sexual desire, but I for one am just projecting on this man. He’s bisexual purely because I say so and nothing else 🤨
what do you think heisenberg's favorite instrument is? i think he'd go absolute bonkers over an electric bass.
Yeah! i think the invention of the electric guitar/bass would just absolutely rock his world (hehehe)
like.... he and alcina get moldified in the 40s/50s and Al is so into swingin cabaret jazz and what he considers to be boring classical but then somewhere along they way he catches wind of rock music and it just totally works with everything he's got going on so he's getting record players and radios and playing the trashiest loudest modern music he can get his hands on while Alcina and her daughters are holding literal opera shows at the castle
tbh i dont know if he would actually play an instrument but you bet ur ass he would make them because he's researched all about them and he likes a project so he's got all these horrifying guitars and basses and drumsets that he's engineered and they sound okay but also when youre a mold wizard in a remote village in eastern europe there's just not a lot of people who want to join your black metal band y'know?
Woke up from my nap in a cold sweat because I remembered that two years ago (I was seventeen am now nineteen and living on my own) my dad blocked ao3 search results aizawa/reader because I read so much of it. The rest of the website was fine and in tact except for that
I also sold him my old laptop and despite fucking wiping the hard-drive he recovered the files. Megabytes of fanfic PDFs and those I wrote myself in word and fan art I drew in fucking gimp. Backed them up for me on not one but TWO USB (had to be split in half over two... That's how much) and said "keep writing"
Does... Does my dad know I read and write sexually explicit and dark content? Does he know I post it online? Does he have my accounts? I don't want the answers to these.
Summary: You feel emotions other than rage and sarcasm oh my god
A/N: The reason I took a break from this series was because I had no idea where to take it from that cliff hanger, and I felt that character development needed to be done before we dive head first into the plot. This is part of that, but keep in mind it’s not filler like Chapter 2 became. I think it’s funny that this was SUPPOSED TO BE A FUCKING ONE SHOT BUT APPARENTLY FUCKING NOT. I’ll be posting another chapter for this series soon. Also feel free to send me asks about this series. I’ve been getting comments on my ao3 that are a) genius b)hilarious and c)heartwarming. Talk to me. Please! Ask and anon should be open right now let me know if they aren’t!
Masterlist link for previous parts:
Link to this chapter on AO3:
Taglist: @localdepressedvampire and one person recieving updates via email
The fresh cold late-autumn air made your lungs sting. And the layers of clothes didn’t help fight the chill you didn’t know you were facing. Has it been that long since you’ve been outside, to see the sun? You stick your arms in your armpits under your outercoat. Well, Heisenberg’s spare trench coat. It was much too big, the cuffs of the sleeves going well past your fingertips and the bottom half an inch from the ground.
You were so used to the fluorescent lighting and the warm dry air of the factory, that your body went into some type of culture shock. It felt like an allergic reaction to the outside world itself. Adjusting to it once you escaped would be hard.
“You’ve clearly become less fit since you started living with me,” Karl says in a matter-of-fact tone. You’d be insulted if you didn’t hear him say weird stuff about the other lords or the occasional brain-washed villager who brought up offerings. One had sewed you a wool and fox-fur dress and brought it up in September, in preparation for the winter. He’d thought it dumb at the time, but it protected you from the November chill better than anything you’ve ever worn.
Did they think you were a woman? Whether they were right or wrong, it didn’t change the fact that it was comfortable, warm, and made you feel better than the clothes you’d been wearing before in the factory or even before. You felt safe.
“Of course, I have, I’ve been sitting on my ass,” you retort.
“Still see that sass is intact.”
“It’s something that’ll never leave me.”
“You’d make a terrible house-spouse.”
“That’s the point,” you sigh hard, and you can see the cold air in front of your face, “I had a whole ass college degree before I came here and got my ass kidnapped.”
Karl whips around and looks at you, tilting his head down to peer at you from above his glasses. “You have a college degree?”
“Why are you surprised? Did you think I was that stupid?” Even if the question is sarcastic and witty, you felt a pang of hurt reverberate in your heart. Did he really think you were that stupid? Apparently so.
“I have two masters. One in aerospace engineering and one in mechanical engineering. Double majored in those fields for my bachelors at Oxford on a full-ride scholarship of robotic engineering.”
His mouth drops open. “And I didn’t know about this because?”
“It never came up.”
He pinches his nose, “you could have been helping me this whole time in the shop, and I let you sit on your ass and play care-taker.”
“More like forced me.” At this point, you’ve stopped walking, and you’d be able to see the manor of Benviento if it weren’t for the fog.
“Besides the point.” He looks stressed. His eyebrows are furrowed, a deep frown is on his face and his whole disposition makes him look genuinely conflicted and upset. “Let’s just go.” He gestures for you to follow him and stomps up the path.
You follow him, trying not to slip in the mud. Converse doesn’t have great traction, you realized. Maybe you should have worn hiking boots. “Listen, dirty Dr. Doofenschmirtz-“
“I don’t want to listen to your dumb nick-names right now.”
You stop again, and your fists ball up at your side around the fabric of the sleeves of his coat. Your coat. The coat you’re wearing.
“Why the hell are you so mad at me!” It’s not a question. It’s an exclamation of emotion. For some reason, it hurts. Even if you despised him, hated him with all your being, having someone love you unconditionally felt nice. He was toxic at best, sociopathic at worst, and yet he loved you so strongly it tore the both of you so part. To feel that admiration has gone missing, even if for a second, sent you reeling. You can’t explain why you softened towards him.
“I’m not.” He keeps walking before he realized you stopped. He turned around to look at you. “I’m not mad at you. I’m just…” He looks for the words. He’d never been good at expressing himself, you realized. Better through actions than words. But you didn’t want him to act on whatever he was feeling.
You wait in silence, eye-watering, trying not to cry.
He sees and rushes over to you. His left arm wraps around you and his right hand gently grabs your chin, his index finger underneath to lift your chin up to look at him. “Don’t cry, you know I hate it when you cry.”
You struggle to take a deep breath, choke on it, and the world feels so much more dangerous. A million malicious eyes gazing into your soul, whispers of panic fill your brain, and flashing thoughts of running right now, of hurting him or you flash through like lightning in a foggy storm. Every damn thing feels hazy and thick and you’re choking on the lump in your throat. “I don’t want to. I don’t want you to be mad at me, I don’t want-“
“Take a deep goddamn breath.” You feel his tobacco-scented breath on your face. You can see panic flash through his eyes for a moment. You hate the smell, and it suffocates you even more. “You need to breath.”
You swallow around the lump in your throat, and your breath shakes like a wasp nest about to fall from the highest branch. “Why are you mad at me?” This time you genuinely ask. You don’t want a reason, but rather a reassurance that he isn’t at all.
His lips form into a snarl that doesn’t come out before he presses them in a tight line. As he thinks. It makes you even more nervous. “I’m not mad at you. I’m mad at the fact that I had an opportunity that went to waste.”
You look up at him. “Okay.”
He wraps his other arm around you and places his chin on your forehead. “Let me know when you’ve calmed down.”
You rest your forehead on his shoulder and breathe.
In. Out.
In. Out.
In. OUT.
In… out
In.
Out.
In.
… out.
“Do you feel any better?”
You wait a moment. “Yeah, I think so.” You ponder for a moment. “I think I had a lot of pent-up anxiety from everything.”
He stays quiet. “I’m sorry.”
“I know.”
He places a kiss on the crown of your head, his beard ruffling your hair. “Are you not going to forgive me?”
You take a deep breath. “I don’t know yet. It’s…” How do I phrase this? “I worked hard for this anger. This anger to love me, to know I didn’t deserve this, to be kidnapped, to have my head ready to be mounted on a stick.” You continue, “if I stop feeling angry, if I forgive you, I’m afraid I’m losing that. That’s why I tried to escape because I loved myself, I wanted better for myself.”
“Was I… Was I not providing enough for you?” His question strikes you like an arrow.
“I-“ You stumble on you’re thoughts for a moment. “It’s less of you not doing enough, but more of the rough foot we started on.” You sniffle. “When I gave up, I felt like I lost a part of myself, all that I worked for. That degree included. I felt all my efforts, all my struggles that I faced outside this goddamn village had gone to waste. That it wasn’t worth it. That I wasn’t worth it.”
You had promised yourself to keep him at arm’s length, to not give him clues to manipulate you. But you poured your heart out into his. You felt him shake and squeeze you tighter.
“Never. Ever. Feel like you aren’t worth it.” You feel something wet on your scalp. “You deserved better than each challenge that you faced, and each bit of hurt you felt along the way.” It’s his turn to choke on his words. He takes a shaky breath above you, and you can feel his heart pound faster. “You, darling, are worth everything.”
Something small inside you breaks. He’s just as human as you are, you realize. In this desperate attempt to escape, to fuel this hatred that’s worn you down, you’ve villainized a man that’s felt even more pain than you. A broken man, who thinks you’re the glue to put him back together. You shouldn’t feel any obligation to, but you do, because you’ve felt a fraction of the pain he’s felt, that he’s currently feeling, and it’s made your mind and bones ache far after the situation ended.
“And so are you, Karl.”
He unwraps his arms from around you. “Come one butter-cup, let’s go. Ugly-ass-psycho-doll is waiting for you. Says she wants you for a fitting and some tea party with her demented child, Angie.”
Summary: I can’t believe he ate the rice from the back of the fridge and confessed his undying love for you
Karl was a smug, arrogant bastard of a familiar, and refused to tell you anything if he wasn’t feeling well. Hence why you got scared shitless when he suddenly came down with a fever in the middle of summer. You had to use your magic to bind his bed. Your bed.
You swathed him up in blankets, turning the hair familiar into a burrito. Nothing but his head and fuzzy ears popping out. “Goddamn it Karl, I told you to tell me if you were sick.”
“I’m not though.”
“You have a fever and the bags under your eyes are so large I can use them to carry my groceries.” You place a cool cloth on his forehead and watch all the muscles in his body relax further into the sheets. “You care to explain why you got so sick.”
“I ate the rice in the back of the fridge.”
“The one I told you to dump two days ago.”
“Yes.”
You sigh and place your head in your hands. “You really are a wolf sometimes.”
“You love it.”
“Unfortunately.” You remove the rag, ring it out into the bowl before placing it on the bedside table. Standing up and heading to the door, you turn back to look at him, “do you need anything else?”
Still, smug as ever, he says, “can I have a kiss?” He doesn’t ask because he knows you can’t say no. Not with the soft look in your eyes. He looks miserable, yet joyous at the same time. He can’t bring himself to be sad when you look so amused yet done with his shit.
You leave the door open, and walk back over to him, before placing a kiss on his forehead. “Don’t make me worry as I worry about you right now.” Your face is close to his.
He leans up and places a peck on your lips. “I love you.”
It’s too much, apparently, and the dam breaks. Your eyes water. “I love you too, Karl, and I wish I could show you…”
“What’s stopping you? Plenty of witches are lovers with their familiars right now, have you seen how many witch/familiar couples your village has alone? Five.”
You lean back, exacerbated. “But it’s wrong, you depend on my magic in order to-“
“No, I don’t, I depend on your love,” Karl corrects, “everyone says they depend on their magic, but they depend on their love, and you’ve already given the kind of love you’re afraid to show to me. Every second of the day I feel it.”
“I-“
“Let me kiss you again.”
“You’re sick,” you sigh, but you indulge, and lean back in and give him a firmer kiss. He feels your tears drip onto his cheeks. You lift your face from his, and whisper against his lips, “I’m afraid.”
“I know. I can feel it.” His lips are a tight line, and his eyes, moist are genuine and serious, are missing the playful glint they almost always have. “But let me try.”
“Okay,” you whisper. You lean in and peck his lips again. “But I have to go back and make that batch of luck potion for Chris.”
“It can wait.”
“Why? You’re all settled in.”
“It has nothing to do with me.” His wolfish grin is back, canines visible and playful glint back after that small moment of honesty and vulnerability. “Chris can wait.”
“You’re right I fucking hate him.” You sigh and fall back into your bed next to him. “Fuck Chris.”
Summary: Your wolf familiar Heisenberg is a nuisance, as always.
No triggers! :)
Mia looks down into her cup of tea. The cup was shallow and wide, with several golden rings, getting progressively closer as they reached the edge of the cup. Steam rose from the water, bringing the chamomile aroma up into her nose. She looks over at her husband and smiles, softly. “Ethan, we need to gift her another tea set, they only have the tasseography set we gifted them when they moved out.”
You give a hearty chuckle. “I only use these when you come around, the set misses you very much.”
Ethan smiles at you, rubbing the back of his sleeping baby with his hand. “Witches-ware tends to do that, miss the ones who owned it before, hence why I’m not very for giving a new witch used goods.” He gives a jokingly stern look to his wife before he continues. “But Mia insisted.”
“Well, they haven’t smashed them yet, so I think I made the right call!”
You bring a cup from another set up to your lips and take a sip, pinky out just to poke slight fun at her. “I think you’re familiar is rubbing off on you, Mia,” you say, “you come into my house, complain about my tea-set and not even mention that I used fresh Blood of Hestia and Elf Leaf to make the tea you’re currently drinking.” Ethan tries so hard not to laugh at her, knowing a smack on his forehead would follow shortly after. “You know, I’m sure if my familiar was here right now, I’m sure you’d kick him with your new heels on the way out the door.”
Her eye twitches slightly, “Alcina isn’t that bad, is she Ethan?”
He sighs. “I think the only reason she tolerates either of us is because she likes Rose. She’s more Rose’s familiar than she is either of ours.”
“Well at least our-“
“Rose’s-“ You correct.
“Well at least Rose’s familiar doesn’t track in di-“
Her statement is interrupted by your familiar, in human form, bursting through the door and ducking under the frame. He’s covered head to toe in dirt, more mud caked on his boots frosting on a cake, holding various plants in his thick-gloved hands. As soon as the door opened, you could see that feral grin spread across his face, his fangs visible. “I’ve brought the plants you asked for.”
“Excuse me Mia, Ethan.” You rise from your seat to greet your familiar and remove his hat and glasses from his head. His salt and pepper hair and wolf ears are visible. “Hello, Karl.” You place a hand on either cheek and go on your tippy-toes, and he leans down so you can place a curt kiss on his forehead. “Someone went rolling in the mud on their way back.” You too have a cheeky grin on your face.
“Can’t help myself, it’s in my blood.” It’s not “blood” so much as nature, rescues do that,
“I know.” You made it a point to keep your hands on his cheeks. The well-needed attention made him burn like a fever. “You got the eyebright and Dog Berries?”
“Ran into some lion’s teeth and-“ He stops and sniffs the air for a second before turning to Mia and Ethan. “Well, well, if it isn’t the Winter’s and their little dew of the sea…” He goes to step further into the house, but you place a firm hand on his chest. It only stops him because he lets it.
“Take your shoes off and put the herbs in the sink before you greet the guests.”
His expression of smug joy deflates for a moment. He, just like his blood sister Alcina, had taken an extreme liking to Rose. Although his was in a more, “uncle who encourages bad decision making” rather than a genuine care-taker kind of way.
You turn back and seat yourself on the stool again. “I’d apologize about that, but I love him far too much to feel bad about getting up mid-conversation to welcome him home.”
Mia smiles into her teacup but startles and almost spills it on herself when she hears you turn around and yell, “when you’re done bring a stool from the island and come sit with us.”
“Really?” Ethan deadpans.
“Yes, really. He’s very fond of you, did you know he-“ you’re interrupted by him plopping the metal stool he levitated over at the round table and him hastily sitting his ass down in it.
“So, how are the Winter’s doing?” He immediately turns to Rose. “And how’s little Rose doing too?”
Upon hearing his voice, Rose eye’s open, and she looks up at him, and reaches out her little hands. He reaches his freshly washed hand out and lets her grab his index finger. “I’d die for you, kiddo.” He has an uncharacteristically soft smile across his face. Rose giggles and the rest of his features visibly melt.
“Don’t tell her that too often,” Mia jokes, “she just might take that seriously and use you to do something devious.”
“Nothing she does will ever be devious, she’s far too sweet,” he says, “you have an angel in your arms, and not even the cruelest of hearts will change that.” And then he turns and continues to coo at the baby while you and the couple talk about various things.
Eventually, it’s time for them to go, and before they do, Karl practically runs to his workshop. “I have a new toy for your little dew-drop!”
“Dew-drop?” Ethan repeats softer.
“It’s his little nickname for the baby,” you clarify, “because her full name is Rosemary, and you can also call rosemary dew of the sea, and since she’s so small, dew-drop.”
Mia looks down at the baby. “That’s so cute-“
“And we are never calling her that.”
Karl is back, holding a small toy car, painted bright colors, not a sharp or small piece in sight. “I made her a toy car.” He approaches the couple and hands the toy car to Mia, who is holding the scones she came to pick up, while Ethan is holding the baby.
“We never have to buy her toys because you make them all.”
“That’s why I make them, so she knows each one is made with love.” He grins like a puppy that didn’t get caught for chewing the table leg. It’s almost disarming.
Ethan looks like he’s going to barf. You’d smack him if he wasn’t holding the baby. “Well, we’d best be heading out,” he says, and turns and opens the door without being prompted, “we have to walk Alcina.”
After the leave, Karl turns to you. “Alcina is a 9’6’’ tall woman, the only parts of the walk she’ll have issues with is going in and out the door. Fucking super-sized bitch,” he grumbles to himself, heading back to the kitchen to open the refrigerator door.
“Are you hungry?”
“No, just bored.” He closes the door again and wanders into your now open arms.
“You were out in the heat for a few hours, maybe you should take a nap.”
“And you were slaving away in that kitchen making that batch of soap for god-knows how long.”
“I’ve been working on that since five in the morning, so about six hours now.”
“We should both take a nap.” He’s already dragging you to the shared bedroom before you can complain.
“You’re sleeping at the foot of the bed, wolf-boy.”
He blatantly refuses, and instead makes himself comfortable, holding you to his chest like a stuffed animal. “I prefer holding you much more.” It’d be sweet if it weren’t so taboo to let him push you around like this.
“I own you, we both know this.”
“Sure you do,” he yawns, “you let me sleep in your bed, eat at the table with you, go grocery shopping with you-“
“I treat you like a person instead of property, I get it,” you grumble, “I love you, and clearly you’ve let that get to your head.”
He goes uncharacteristically quiet for a moment. “You love me.”
“Of course, I do, not quit talking before I kick you to your own bed.” He does, in fact, have his own bed, that he fits in just fine, that he’s used exactly once. It was his first night here, and he slept for three hours before crawling into yours after three hours because he had a nightmare. He’s never slept in it again. Bastard. But you never really blamed him, you rescued him and his siblings, and their owner was an absolute shithead.
“You’d never.” He places a kiss on the crown of your head. “You love me too much.”
“Weren’t you the one who suggested we nap together?”
“It was you.”
“Goddamn it.”
He squeezes around you tighter, and by the time you fall asleep, you feel his breathing in your ear. You spoil him far too much, to the point where people think you are lovers. Perhaps it’s because you wished you could be, sometimes. It’d be funny, to see how that’d play out. It’s not as taboo as it used to be, but still very much frowned upon. For good reason too. While he isn’t bound in servitude like familiars were long ago, like he was with his previous master, the power imbalance is much too large for you to feel comfortable with it.
He depended on your magic to stay alive, and while he could rely on the magic of the earth, it just wasn’t the same as a witch that cared about him as much as you did. His telekinesis was so much stronger since he moved in with you and got a sudden intense boost just recently.
Yanpapa Chris Redfield spots some dumbass uni student getting field data or whatever at an old Umbrella Corp facility and he just !!! Instant papa mode. Like this dumbass could've gotten hurt or worse, how have they survived so long already, he needs to take this into his own hands and start looking after this idiot. Y/N is just vibing getting data for a uni project or whatever (living that grad student life) at an old dangerous facility and is whisked away by some huge dude and they're just like "Yeah whatever fine me and let's get this over with, I have deadlines" and yanpapa Chris just keeps making up excuses to keep them with him like "Oh, you need to be decontaminated" etc etc and Y/N is like "bro let me go I've got shit to do, data to get and donuts to eat lmfao" and Chris is like "Nope you're my bby now"
Y/N is like "If you love me let me go oooo!" (that Panic at the Disco song lmfao) and Chris is just looming over her behind her as she scrolls through tumblr or whatever
Just some ideas ily 💜 💜 💜 💜 💜
I just imagine that Drake meme.
Yanpapa Chris Redfield: Data Field Collecting? ✋🏻Nah. Donut Eating? 👉🏻Hell yeah!
*Meanwhile Y/n scrolling through Tumblr*
Yanpapa Chris Redfield: What are you doing? Who are you talking to??
Y/n: Nothing and no one. I’m just scrolling through weird and questionable things. Don’t worry about it, old man.
Yanpapa Chris Redfield: Weird and questionable things????? Isn’t that exactly what I should be worrying about!?!?!?!
I know we're not mut but like I have to piggy-back with the following ideas:
Reader trying to explain eeby deeby to chris
Reader explaining that Firefox-official is not actually run by Firefox
Reader trying to explain the difference between Anime, Manga (he accidentally called it Mango and you blocked his phone number for a week), web comics and normal cartoons to him
Reader making him play the rat (or pigeon I don't remember) dating sim
Chris being confused by pukicho
Chris being confused by Dennys-official and how it's actually run by Dennys
Chris: wait... Dennys is run by Dennys but Firefox isn't run by Firefox?
Reader: yeah boomer keep up
Also explaining to him the do you love the color of the sky post or the reblog in x amount of time or (something really fucking weird) happens at (obscure time in the middle of the night)
MISHAPOCOLYPSE
Chris: I have so many questions
Reader: and you want none of the answers
Or superwholock
Or biggest-guadiest-patronuses
That whole oncler thing in general
Or shit posts in general
FUCKING MIKU BINDER THOMAS JEFFERSON
Phan...
The hamster fic
The milk fic
That ash x Pikachu blog that had posts on queue for when the mod got put in prison for killing his grandpa
The whole ordeal about mailing someone a toe
Having to explain the whole "being sold to one direction" thing
Or explaining why people keep calling him a "dilf"
Chris: I don't have kids though.
Reader: yeah, but you sure look like it sometimes.
Chris: no thanks to you
Claire, somewhere in the background, sipping tea: *spits it out, spraying it all over her paper-work like a firehose*
Explaining what a porn bot was
Explaining the whole sunglasses scam ordeal
The posts where they rearrange sentances and it spirals wildly out of control
Jackson family estate v tumblr
Why Neil gaiman is on there
Chris: didn't he write that book you really liked... Good omens?
Reader: yes, he also goes on there to avoid writing
Chris: but he's a writer?
Reader, who scrolls mindlessly through Tumblr to procrastinate on writing fanfic to procrastinate on writing their thesis: I suppose you're... Write
Chris: goddamn it
Oh and the Neil gaiman what are you doing in my falafel post
The "can you tag for space, it gives me anxiety" "nonny this is a space blog" post
The mpreg Jesus post
Mpreg in general
The grungnort post
The smelborp niks DNA tnemtnioppadid for president post
Carmel dancin
The whole thing about dj speed cake not actually being dead
Give em the ol' razzle dazzle and it's a picture of a corgi sticking its left hind leg out
Wizard is an animal
The wizard maze uquiz that's 109 questions long
If you couldn't tell I'm a Tumblr veteran... Been here since 2013... More ashamed than proud about it
I'd put this under a readmore but I'm on mobile in an Uber with a middle-aged guy who keeps giving me unsolicited life advice
